Harry Potter and the City of Dreams
by magma
Summary: The City of Dreams. . . People no longer speak of it, and yet, Harry feels he must find it. But just where is this mysterious city, and why is it important to the future of the wizarding world?
1. Chapter One - Dreaming

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams

By Magma

  


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter was orginally created by J.K. Rowling, and it belongs to her and Warner Brothers with whatever rights they own to it. This is purely a story of fanfiction, not ever published or said to be written by a little girl who only writes occasionaly. Thank you. 

A/N: This is a 6th year fic. Last year, nothing big happened. Learned a few spells, Gryffindor won the House and Quidditch Cup, etc. . . Also, this is the rewritten version of HP and CoD. It will be different, and I plan to update weekly, or daily. I will be replacing the old chapters with the new as I get them out. Please forgive any spelling errors. 

**_

Chapter One - Dreaming

_**

Water. . . Water surrounding everything. . . And then, _plink_! Something shattered that perfect calm. Harry's eyes snapped open. "Where - Where am I?" All about him he saw water encompassing everything - and then! Swirling clouds revealed themselves, and there, in the mists, was a floating city! 

Harry nearly wept out loud at the sight of it, this magnificent city, glittering in the sun like a diamond. The smooth elegent lines of the buildings fashioned themselves after a bird, sleek and glistening. Harry so desperately wanted to enter the city, but the largest gate of silver imaginable blocked him. 

But as Harry sat in front of the gate, silently weeping, it opened every so slightly, and a tiny child appeared. Her brown hair was done in ringlets, and her blue eyes sparkled happily. 

"Hello, Harry Potter." An echoing voice shocked Harry out of weeping. "Are you well?" 

Harry quickly stood up, wiping away his tears. "I'm fine, thank you." He offered her a weak smile, not quite reaching his eyes. "See?" 

"Follow me." And the girl started to walk, her slippered feet silent on the paved streets. "And you are not well." 

"Wh-What?" Harry was shocked. What did she know? "Where are we going?" 

She smiled mysteriously. "The City of Dreams." She pointed at the buildings around her. 

"City of Dreams?" Harry asked, but she had already walked around the block. 

The buildings stood there, stark in their cold and forbidding beauty. However, there were no people. How odd, Harry thought. How very odd. 

"This city is where dreams are reality. Without this city, your world would cease to exist." She pointed to the empty streets. "Already the people vanish, for those who one dreamed are now gone. Dead." 

Harry looked at her again, wondering about her odd voice and speech. "Exactly who are you?" 

She smiled again. "I am merely called the Watcher. I see all." She started to walk again. 

"Wait!" Harry reached out an arm, beseechingly. "What does this have to do with me?" 

"Find this city of the clouds, and seek your answers there." The Watcher looked at Harry, her eyes sad and weary. "Goodbye, Harry Potter." 

"WHAT?" Harry's mind was in shatters. What was the Watcher talking about? Find this city? How could he even be sure it existed? 

"Goodbye, Harry Potter," she whispered into his ear.   
  
"_Days of Dark shall come and go,   
yet for the light to keep it so,   
one shall rise and conquer he,   
he who seeks to destroy all that is free_." 

She started walking again. 

"WA-" But she was already gone.   
  


~*~

"WAIT!" Harry woke up in cold sweat, gasping for breath. He frantically looked around, emerald eyes wide in shock. "Where did she go?" 

"BE QUIET BOY!" a booming voice shouted. "You're interrupting MY sleep!" 

Harry shut his mouth, thinking silently. This girl, she told him to find a city. Well, he'd try, just for a chance to see it again. Did it even truly exist? 

With this question on mind, Harry Potter slept dreamlessly.   
  


~*~

The next morning, Harry was cooking breakfast. He absently watched the bacon fry, wondering about his dream and what to do. But peace never lasts, does it? 

Since the beginning of this summer, the Dursleys had taken to beating him and ordering him around like a slave. He couldn't use magic, and they forced him to burn all his letters upon arrival. They also locked up his books, wand, and broomstick. They even had locked up Hedwig, Harry's only comfort in the house. To put it simply, Harry's life was hell. 

As Vernon took up drinking, Harry's beatings grew worse and worse, until it got to the point where Harry could not walk because of sheer pain and exhaustion. Aunt Petunia pretended that all was well, and continued to give Harry constant chores. 

As the weeks went by, Harry grew weaker and weaker. He thought he had at least 3 broken ribs, and God knows only how many times he had to reset one of his legs or arms. With multiple bruises and cuts covering every centimeter of his body, Harry was not a pretty sight. He _ached_. _Breathing_ hurt. _Walking_ hurt. Hell, everything hurt! Harry just wanted peace. He was so sure he was going to die. So very sure.   
  


~*~

Sometime during July or August (Harry lost track of time), Harry awaoke to screaming. Loud screaming. 

"GET OUT YOU FREAKS! VERNON!" Aunt Petunia was in hysterics, surrounded by Death Eaters. They were dressed in black robes, ghostly masks covering their faces. 

One of the Death Eaters smirked. "Worthless muggle. _Avada Kedavra_!" A jet of bright green light shot out of his wand, instantly silencing Petunia's cries. The other twelve Death Eaters quickly killed Vernon and Dudley before they could cause a problem. And then, they searched for their goal. Harry Potter. 

Harry watched in silent shock, his breathing accelerating, eyes dilated. He tried to keep quiet, but all was too late. 

"Get him!" A Death Eater pointed at Harry who was at the top of the stairs, wide-eyed with fright. Harry took off like lightening, running to the nearest room, wheezing in exhaustion. He wished he wasn't so bloody tired! 

The thirteen Death Eaters crowded into the battered room, dried blood gracing the walls. Moonlight streamed into the room, giving the room a ghastly look. "There's nowhere to run, Harry Potter!" The head Death Eater smiled at Harry's wild gaze, and turned to address the others. 

Too late! In a moment of desperation, Harry flung himself through the window, the glass slicing multiple new cuts into Harry's arms and cheeks. He fell, fell until he hit the ground heavily, crimson blood pooling around his body. 

Harry ran, not looking back, hoping to find salvation soon. He thought for the closest safe place, and it dawned upon him. Ms. Figg's house! He dashed to the door, knocking frantically on the heavy oak door, hoping she was home. 

She was. A wizened old face appeared out the door. "Harry?" She took in his horrible appearance. "What happened?" 

Harry ran through the doorway, locking the door once he was in. Then, he collapsed, too weary to think or move. "Help. . . me. . ." 

Arabella Figg worriedly looked at Harry Potter, quickly casting a temporary healing spell. Then, she started to write a letter to Albus Dumbledore, occasionally glancing at Harry as she did so. 

The Death Eaters bypassed the dark house, thinking nothing of it. Not finding Harry, they returned from whence they came. But they left despair and ruin behind them.   
  


~*~

  


To Be Continued. . . 


	2. Chapter Two - Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams  
By Magma  
  
Chapter Two-Dumbledore  
  
Harry took a moment to analyze his surroundings. A looming mansion made of grey stonewas right in front of him. It appeared he had landed in front of Dumbledore's mansion. Trees, grass, and flowers surrounded him, and birds twittered their songs of cheer.  
  
"Well," Harry thought, "He certainly lives in a nice place."  
  
Harry stood up, and brushed some of the dirt on his clothes off. He picked up his suitcase and Hedwig's cage, took a deep breath, and walked toward the mahogany wooden door that was the entrance. The heavy steel doorknocker was shaped like a phoenix's head, with the ring in the beak. Harry reached out to knock on the door, and suddenly, the doorknocker came to life!  
  
The doorknocker asked him a question in a series of whistles and chirps, and to Harry's amazement, he could understand. And when he replied, he spoke the same language! The conversation went like this:  
  
"Who you?" inquired the phoenix.  
  
"I'm Harry Potter," he replied, still not quite comprehending the situation.  
  
"You have sorrow surrounding you," the phoenix stated. "Go out to sun. Make you happy."  
  
"Sorrow?" Harry asked, curious what the phoenix's response would be.  
  
The phoenix made a consoling sound, like a mother bird gives to comfort a chick. "Sorrow, yes. Must be happy!"  
  
"I don't know if I can be happy," he answered sadly.  
  
"Can!" the phoenix shouted. "Can and will!"  
  
Harry widened his eyes a bit. "Alright," he said, thinking that if the phoenix wanted him to brighten up that much, he'd have to. "I'll try."  
  
"Try not good enough!" the bird cried. "Must!"  
  
Harry watched the phoenix warily. It sure was stubborn. He was about to reply, but then the door opened. Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling merrily, smiled down at Harry.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him,"it's nice to see you again. What were you doing right  
now?"  
  
"I..uh..." stammered Harry nervously, and he pulled his collar a bit. "I was talking to your doorknocker, sir." Harry tried not to think of how stupid that sounded to his ears.  
  
"Oh?" inquired Dumbledore. "So, you've already met Trilene?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," replied Harry.  
  
"Well, Trilene is a bit stubborn," said Dumbledore, amused at the day's events. "She's a bit of a fanatic when it comes to people being happy."  
  
"Yeah, I can see that," muttered Harry under his breath.  
  
"Come in," said Dumbledore, indicating the interior of the mansion.   
  
Harry stepped inside, and gaped at the interior of the mansion. It was dimlitted inside, for a chandelier hung above, and candles were scattered here and there. The chandelier glittered in the sunlight, tinkling softly as a small breeze blew by.  
  
Magical lights shone from metal braziers that hung on the stone walls. Halls connected to  
the main lobby, and tapestries of times long ago and enchanted paintings covered the   
walls, giving it a weird feeling.  
  
"I'll show you your room," said Dumbledore, gesturing toward one of the halls on the left of the lobby.  
  
He started walking toward the corridor, and Harry had to run a bit to catch up. Dumbledore started talking about the mansion itself.  
  
"That painting over there," he said, pointing to a woman dressed in low-cut victorian style dress, "is Ashy Potter, one of your ancestors, Harry. She was of the Gryffindor line."  
  
"That tapestry over there," continued Dumbledore, but Harry wasn't paying any attention anymore. He tuned out the sound of Dumbledore's voice, and thought about the dreams he had been having. Suddenly, he caught the tail end of the explanation of a tapestry Dumbledore was talking about.  
  
"-ffindor was the one who propehcied this, you know. He was a Seer, a person who can see the future sometimes." Dumbledore explained.  
  
"Could you repeat that Professor?" asked Harry, and they stopped in front of the tapestry.  
  
The tapestry was of a black unicorn standing in a grey void, surrounded by fire. At the bottom, there was writing, but all Harry could make out was, ir of G, 00 ye, and, pion against D. Harry couldn't read all the words, just letters and numbers.  
  
"This tapestry was made after Gryffindor made a prophecy about a black unicorn. He was a Seer, and could see the future at some times, and apparently, this one was of the future." repeated Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, due to age and bad conditions, we wizards can not read what is stiched into the bottom, so I do not really have an explanation for this tapestry."  
  
Harry realized that this black unicorn was the one he saw in his dream! But how could have Gryffindor predicted this so far in the past?   
  
"We're here," annouced Dumbledore, and Harry stopped walking.  
  
They had stopped in front of a sturdy wooden door made of oak, with a brass door knocker. It was shaped like a phoenix head, too.  
  
Harry eyed the door knocked warily, wondering if this one talked as well.   
  
Dumbledore probably saw the look, for he chuckled in amusement. "This one doesn't talk," he said,"It's just enchanted. In order to open the door, say phoenix!"  
  
The last word Dumbledore had said was a chirp of some sort, yet Harry found that he could understand!  
  
Dumbledore smiled mysteriously. "You are a Seer, Harry, and you can speak to phoenixes."  
  
"Bu. . but how?" inquired Harry.  
  
"You are the last heir of Gryffindor, and these gifts are passed down Gryffindor's line." Dumbledore replied. "Phoenix!" he shouted, and the door swung open.  
  
Dumbledore left Harry to his own devices, while he returned to his own chambers. He had kept close watch on the boy since he had stepped inside the mansion. Harry's reaction to that certain tapestry had fairly disturbed him. Black unicorns were very rare, considered extinct in this time and age. Considered a symbol of darkness, many witches and wizards hunted them to extinction. Pity really. They were remarkable creatures. Phoenixes were also amazing creatures in their own right. Trilene was somewhat odd herself. A phoenix in a doorknocker, who would of thought! But she always wanted people to be happy. Albus' parents before him had the doorknocker installed as a kind of defense and security system, but Albus and become fast friends with the talking doorknocker in his lonely life. She always tried to make him happy, but at that age, he was /truly/ a very depressed young boy. Ah, but it wasn't a good time to dwell on past memories. Hopefully Trilene could help Harry as she helped him in the future.  
  
:I feel the urge for revision. . .: 


	3. Chapter Three - Memories

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams  
By Magma  
  
Author's notes:Thanks everybody for the reviews! I'll try to write faster, and write   
longer chapters ^_^:  
  
Chapter Three-Memories  
  
Harry took a step into the room, and scanned his new surroundings. The theme of the   
room seemed to be the sky, for it was all a pale, sky blue, with fluffy clouds. All the   
bedsheets, the floor, the wallpaper, all blue. The room was designed in such a way that  
the sky and clouds appeared to be 3-dimensional, and the wallpaper moved constantly, so  
it gave you the sensation of flying through the air. A huge four-poster bed was in the  
center of the room, with gauzy white draperies. A wardrobe and a   
dresser were across from the bed, and Fawkes was sleeping on the top of the dresser. . .  
Wait a minute! Fawkes?  
  
Harry did a double-take, glasses almost falling off as he whipped his head around to   
stare at the sleeping phoenix. Dumbledore arched an eyebrow in question, then saw  
Fawkes also.   
  
"Well," commented Dumbledore,"that is curious. I suppose he sensed you coming."  
  
Harry's face scrunched up into a look of confusion, but then a light bulb went on.  
  
"Oh," he said suddenly." Then I suppose that he knew I was coming, and came to the room  
I would be staying in?"  
  
"Yes," replied Dumbledore."That's correct, Harry. Now, why don't you unpack your   
things and take a nap. I'm sure the day has been stressful for you." Then, he left, and it  
was as if he had never been there.  
  
Harry started to unpack, pulling out clothes, his invisibilty cloak, the sneakoscope Ron   
had gave him, the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermoine had got him, old birthday cards, and  
put Hedwig's cage on the dresser. He unlocked the cage door, in case she woke up and  
wanted to go out. Then, he paused. There was a little brown wooden box at the bottom of  
his suitcase. It looked entirely ordinary, but Harry had learned long ago not to judge   
things by their appearance. Harry pulled it out, holding it gingerly in his hand, as if   
holding something potentialy dangerous. Then, he decided, what the heck, and opened it.  
  
A small scrap of parchment lay in the silk-lined interior of the box. It looked very   
battered and worn, for the years did not appear to have been kind to it. Harry could   
make out faint, spidery lines of flowing script, written in tiny words and letters. Harry   
didn't know why, but this little piece of paper reminded him a song, a song sung by a   
gentle, sweet voice.  
  
// hands holding him, a warm sensation of belonging and contentment, and a lullaby sung by  
a gentle, sweet voice.  
  
The nightingale sings,  
sings with sorrow,  
the church bells ring,  
on this day.  
  
One day we will die,  
but until that day,  
listen to the world sigh,  
and hear the birds fly away. //  
  
Harry wiped hot tears from his face with his hand, and remembered his mother, the  
person he could never meet again. He blinked back his tears, and squinted at the little  
peice of paper, trying to determine if it was of some importance. His eyes widened in   
shock as the words began to reform thmeselves, changing into readable words.  
  
He who's wand is now gone,  
seek for what is lost forever.  
Merlin, he who was the greatest of us,  
and you who are of his line, be clever.  
Find out what he used back then,  
not a wand, but something in the Lion's den.  
  
Harry's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "The Lion's den?" he thought in confusion."Is it   
talking about Gryffindor's lion? And if it is, what was Gryffindor's home?" Harry didn't   
know where Godric Gryffindor had lived, he never payed any real attention to Proffesor  
Binns classes, but then, nobody else did, except for Hermoine.   
  
"I'll ask Proffesor Dumbledore tomorrow about that peice of paper," he thought, as he   
lay on the bed. "I'll just go to sleep now," he thought drowzily, and his eyelids shuttered   
shut.  
  
* * *  
  
A moment after Harry opened the box, 1500 years earlier(I might have gotten the time  
wrong) during the time of King Arthur, the advisor of King Arthur paused in the action of  
making a speech to the court. The advisor was an old man, with a long, white beard,   
solemn grey eyes, and bony features. But his personality reflected that he was not as   
frail as he seemed. He was dressed in flowing blue robes, embroided with silver halfmoons  
and stars, and clutched a wooden staff as tall as himself in his hand. This man was the  
advisor to King Arthur, Merlin Emrys, though only he knew his last name.   
  
"Is something wrong, Merlin?" asked Arthur worriedly. He sat in his throne, dressed in  
gold plated armor and a royal purple cape that touched the floor.  
  
"It is nothing, Arthur," responded Merlin, though Merlin knew that it was of great   
importance.   
  
King Arthur nodded in response, though he knew Merlin was telling him the truth. It could  
wait until later, he decided. Preferbaly after this speech.  
  
"As I was saying," continued Merlin, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "We -"  
But as Merlin spoke, he faltered yet again, and Arthur gave a worried look at his past  
tutor.  
  
"I apologize," said Merlin,"but it seems that I cannot make this speech, ladies and lords.  
Perhaps tomorrow?" And then he walked out of the throne room, lords and ladies parting  
to let him pass, his robes trailing on the floor.  
  
:I'll try to type more! I'm already working on the next chapter!:  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter Four - Merlin

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams  
By Magma  
  
Author's notes: thanks for telling me about the spelling. You can't blame me though, I'm  
working with Notepad here, and it doesn't have spellcheck. Also, what happened to my  
reviews? 628 hits, but 33 reviews. Does somebody see anything wrong here? And again,  
thanks everyone for their reviews! :  
  
Chapter Four - Merlin  
  
"He's finally come," whispered Merlin in joy, and his eyes were brimming with tears. The  
Heir had finally come! "I must cast the spell quickly," he told himself, rushing around his  
room to find the components, "ere' he wakes up, and then, it will not work." Merlin stood  
above a bubbling black cauldron, and took a pinch of a silvery-blue powder from a pouch  
he had laid on the table, and chanted,"  
  
Spirits heed my call,  
so that the Dark shall fall.  
The Phoenix I must speak to and see,  
let him come and talk to me,  
so he shall learn what must be done,  
and then happily will shine the sun. " (I apologize for the really bad rhyme.)  
  
Then, he threw the pinch of powder into the cauldron, and silvery-white sparks shot out   
of it, raining in the room. Once they touched Merlin, he was incased in a glowing white   
barrier of energy. It crackled and moved as Merlin intoned," Take me there," And then,  
he was gone, and the only evidence of his passage was a silvery streak of light that still  
shone, and the cauldron.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry," whispered a faint voice. "Harry, come to me,"  
  
Harry snapped open his eyes. He was floating in the void again! He looked into the   
shadows of the void, but could not see the person who had said that. "Where are you?"   
he asked, looking into the horizon, or was that a horizon? You could not tell.  
  
"I am," said the figure as it stepped out of the shadows,"Merlin."  
  
"Merlin?!" cried Harry in shock." One of the greatest wizards of this age?"  
  
"True," whispered Merlin in amusement."If that is what they say of me now."  
  
Harry took a moment to analyze Merlin. He was wearing a very worn black wizards hat,  
with silver moons and stars embroided on it, and his robes were also black with silver.   
In his left hand, Merlin clutched a wooden staff, which at the top, formed into a   
dragon's claw, and the claw held a radiant ruby within its palm.  
  
"Is that?" he started asking, but Merlin interrupted him.  
  
"This is my staff, Harry," he explained,"and you are to find it in your own time."  
  
"But how," asked Harry again, but Merlin held up a hand for silence.   
  
"You shall find out for yourself," he said mysteriously, "But for now, we shall concentrate  
on here and now."  
  
Merlin walked closer to Harry, and waved his hand about him. "This, Harry" he said   
gesturing to the void,"is your mind. Here, you will have all the time in the world, but when  
you decide to leave, only an hour will have passed. I shall be teaching you how to do   
magic."  
  
"I can't do spells now," Harry told Merlin." My wand broke, and without my wand, I can't  
do magic."  
  
Merlin smiled mysteriously, as if he knew something Harry didn't. "I'm here to teach you   
how." he said simply. "There is always an answer to a question, no matter how vague it is."  
  
And Harry's lessons started in how to do magic, without his wand. Harry soon learned   
that he could do spells just be saying the incantation, no need to wave his hand about, and  
that he didn't need to sleep or eat in his mind. Merlin teached non-stop, but there was no  
worry about Harry dropping dead from exhaustion, because he couldn't. It was that   
simple. Merlin taught him the history of the wizarding world, because Merlin "saw" into  
the future from time to time. He also taught Harry about potions, and other things he   
might need to know about any subjects. Harry learned more from Merlin then he had with  
any of his other teachers, for they had no time limit in teaching. By the time Merlin was   
almost done teaching Harry, he knew more than some adult wizards in his time! At the   
last session Merlin and Harry had, Merlin told Harry that this would be the end,and this  
would also be the last spell he would teach Harry. The Shield spell, said dleihs, and for   
the second level of that spell, reierrab tirips. This spell, Merlin had told Harry, would   
block even the Avada Kedavra spell, but only if it was cast by one person, not 12 for   
example. Also, you could not hold this spell for very long, for it takes too much energy for  
that.   
  
Harry waved good-bye at Merlin, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, and Merlin smiled  
back at him. Merlin snapped his fingers, and the barrier of crackling white energy   
appeared once again.   
  
"Take me back to my own time," he told it, and then he disappeared, with only a stream of  
white energy to mark his passage.   
  
Harry cried a bit, for Merlin had become a dear friend to Harry, and then he forced   
himself to wake up, still crying in sorrow.   
  
* * *  
  
Harry found himself back in Dumbledore's room again, tears dripping onto his pillow. He  
wondered if Merlin would ever come to visit him again. That calmed him down a bit.   
"Maybe I'll see him again," thought Harry, and he drifted off into peaceful sleep.  
  
:Next time, what will happen when Harry wakes up? Will he tell Dumbledore about Merlin,  
or will he keep it a secret. Also, Dumbledore tells Harry who the new DADA teacher will  
be! OK, I sound like a TV annoucer. Ignore the stuff before this please, I think I've gone  
crazy from writing non-stop for 2 hours. It's not a pleasant experiance. -_-; :  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter Five - My New DADA Teacher is Wh...

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams  
By Magma  
  
Author's notes: I really sorry about how long it took me to update! School is killing me   
now, with projects due, and report cards coming in! Gomen nasai for the delay! -_-; Also,  
I've been working on my other stories, so I haven't had time. Thanks everybody for their  
reviews! Please review this, I was typing this until 1:00 A.M. this morning! Ja ne! ^_^:  
  
Chapter Five - My New DADA Teacher is Who?!  
  
When Harry woke up the next morning, he awoke to the sound of Fawkes singing, and  
could make out the repeating of the words sun, wake up, sky, healing, and clouds. When  
Fawkes realized he was awake, he said to Harry,"Wake up already? Go out door.   
Breakfast time."  
  
Harry pulled himself out of bed, still wondering about Merlin, and dressed in a clean white  
T-shirt, socks, shoes, and some jeans. Opening the chamber door, Harry peered outside.  
Then he heard a voice squeaking out,"Harry Potter! I is Mony, and here is sirs breakfast!"  
Harry looked downwards, and was surprised to find a house-elf beaming at him cheerfully.  
This house-elf, Mony as he recalled, had a tomato nose, pointed ears, a short body, and   
big, wide eyes. Mony struggled against the weight against the breakfast tray, but   
managed to keep her balance. Harry took it from her, letting her not suffer so.   
  
"Thanks," welcomed Harry, and then Mony disappeared in a flash. He looked down at the tray  
in his hands. It had assorted cereals and fruits arranged on it. Harry decided to try some  
of it all, and see what he like. He took the tray down the hall, to the dining room, and  
found Professor Dumbledore already sitting there drinking some milk. As soon as Harry  
appeared in the dining room, Dumbledore stood up, and handed Harry a newspaper, his  
eyes twinkling merrily.   
  
"Here, Harry," he said with a smile on his face. "I think you'll be interested in this article."  
  
Harry, baffled, took the newspaper, and sat at the chair adjecent to Dumbledore's. To  
his amazement, it was this day's edition of the Daily Prophet. But it wasn't the newspaper  
that shocked Harry, it was the headline.   
  
Across the front page of the Daily Prophet in every changing colors, the headline read:  
  
Sirius Black Declared Innocent! (I don't know how to change the font without changing the rest of the story.)  
By Ash Briar  
  
Amazingly today, long-time convict, Sirius Black, was stated as innocent. This morning,  
around 5:00 A.M., the presumed dead wizard, Peter Pettigrew, went to have a talk to the  
Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge! It was revealed that the deaths of those 17 muggles  
was Pettigrew's fault, and the reason that the Potter family died was because of him, not  
Sirius Black! Pettigrew was led away to Azkaban, with an escort of Hit-wizards. Sirius  
Black was declared innocent at around 6:00 this morning, and is said to already have a  
buisness preposition. (How do you spell this?)  
  
Harry let the newspaper fall from his hands, then joy registered in his mind. "Sirius is   
finally free," he thought, "and I can go live with him!" He wanted to dance around the room,  
for this feeling of euphoria Harry had at the moment was intoxicating.  
  
"Harry," said Dumbledore quietly,"that buisness preposition the article talks about . . .   
Sirius has accepted it. He is your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"  
  
Harry's eyes widened in shock, and then his sensation of euphoria intensified. Now he   
really wanted to dance around the room in joy. He decided he could show it in the form  
of one of those light-spells Merlin had taught him, one of those that looked like fireworks.  
Harry muttered a word under his breath quickly, then spread the fingers on his hands wide,  
and aimed them at the ceiling. As he finished the spell, streams of translucent, multi-colored  
light shot out of his fingers, and floated about the room on small breezes of air. He also  
conjured up balls and streamers of blue light, his internal light, and let them float about   
the room. Dumbledore watched in wonderment as streaks of blue of multi-colored energy  
passed him by, whizzing and floating by, making the room light up like a million suns.  
  
"Harry," he asked quietly, studing the streams of blue energy Harry had conjured. "How  
did you make these?"  
  
"Oh," Harry replied, still conjuring up even more lights. "this? I learned how to do this."  
  
"Yes, but from whom?"inquired Dumbledore.  
  
Harry paused a moment in creating lights. "You promise not to tell," he asked cautiously.  
Dumbledore nodded in response. "Merlin taught me," he said quietly, then tears began to  
involutarily form in his eyes, threatening to spill out in a storm, as he remebered happy   
times with his one-time mentor.   
  
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose with the intake of this statement. "How?"  
  
"In my mind,"replied Harry, softly,"in my dreams."  
  
"Perhaps he is our phoenix," thought Dumbledore,"for Merlin himself has come to teach   
him. It is a likely possibility that he is."   
  
~*~  
  
Darkness surrounded him. . . enshrouding him, ensnaring him, protecting him. All he could see were shadows. He could pick out misty forms here and there, but the cell was too dark for him to tell a wall from a person. . .or a /creature/.  
  
He shuddered in fear. But was it in fear of the creatures around him or of himself? He had felt a severe guilt upon seeing his former friend's son. He crushed him, bearing down upon him with all the sorrow of the past. So he repented on his sins, hoping his friend's son would find it in his heart to forgive him. Hoping. . .  
  
Hope was all he had at the moment. Good memories didn't do any good. Thoughts were muddled from the overpowering presence of the creatures outside the cell. Pain didn't exist, only numbness. Hope was all he had. . .  
  
A/N: Added the last 3 paragraphs to clear things up. Hope they helped. 


	6. Chapter Six - A Surprise

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams  
By Magma  
  
Author's notes: Many thanks to Dragonflower, who is hosting my story on her site, when she gets around to making it. Well, hope you enjoy this edition of Harry Potter and the City of Dreams. I'm terribly sorry it took so long for me to post this. I had writer's block. Argh! The bane of authors! ^_^;:  
  
Chapter Six - A Surprise - it's a good one ^_^  
  
Harry lay on his four-poster bed, idly twirling a feather Fawkes had given him the other day. It appeared that it held great importance to the phoenix, but for what reason, Harry didn't know. To put it in simple terms, Harry was bored. That's right folks, B O R E D. Nothing to do, and too much free time floating around. Dumbledore had told him that he would give Harry a parcel for his birthday, but told him only to open it one hour after his birthday. Harry still had 2 more hours left. Harry sighed in boredom, wondering what Ron and Hermoine were doing. Then, he heard a tapping. Tap tap tap, on the window. Harry walked over to the window, and unlatched the lock.   
  
Hedwig came flying in, looking very pleased with herself. She preened her feathers a bit, and gave Harry an affectionate peck, before flying to her cage and taking a nap. Three parcels lay on Harry's bed, of differing size. The smallest one was wrapped in brown parcel paper, the second-largest in gift wrap, and the largest, a very large box. Harry opened the smallest first, and found a small newspaper clipping, a gift-wrapped box,and a letter. The letter was from Hermoine.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I can't believe Sirius was declared innocent! And to believe he already has a job waiting for him! (Harry chuckled at that part) I hope you like your birthday present, and I'm very sorry about your relatives. I'm visited Viktor over the summer, and I must tell you, Bulgaria is quite beautiful! I'm sorry the letter isn't longer, but I just came back, and I had to get this to you by your birthday. I hope you had a Happy Birthday Harry!  
  
Sincerely,  
Hermoine   
  
Harry looked at the small present in interest, and proceeded to carefully open it. Inside, laying in red satin, was a necklace. It looked like a broach that had ribbon attached to it. The ribbon was worn thin, but still a vivid color of black, and seemed to be of satin. The bauble that was attached to it appeared to be a translucent gold sphere, which was filled with a silvery, metallic liquid inside. Harry read the note that was attached to it.  
  
Harry,  
this necklace is a charm used to warn the wearer of danger. If someone with evil intentions towards you comes within a one-mile radius distance from you, it will grow hot and change colors, to a rainbow color, and glow green.  
- Hermoine  
  
Interesting, thought Harry. Could be really useful in the future. Harry reached over to open the second-largest present. It was from Ron. Inside was a letter from Ron, and a book. Unsurprisingly, the book was about quidditch, the history of different broom manufacturing companies, and how Quidditch was it formed. This book wasn't Quidditch Through the Ages, no, not at all. No, this book was written by Catherine Brock, the title, All You Ever Needed to Know About Qudditch.   
  
Harry,  
I'm very sorry to hear that your relatives died. I can't imagine that Death Eaters came to your house! Dad told the family all about it, and Mum was worried sick about you. She kept talking about Poor Harry and how sad it was about your relatives dying. Bill came back from his job;it's his vacation time. Mum was positively radiating happiness. And Harry, where are you staying? It'll be a lot easier to send letters and stuff like that if I knew where you were. Have a happy birthday, Harry, and try to meet us in Diagon Alley!  
Your best friend,  
Ron  
  
Well, it's always nice to know more about Quidditch, Harry thought. He turned to the next parcel, the one from Dumbledore. He could open it, but Harry was suspicious of what the parcel contained within. Finally taking the intiative, he opened the parcel, and to his amazement and surpries, there was a letter from Dumbledore contained within the box, and among many layers of silk, a wooden, engraved box, with a shiny silver lock. Harry read the letter first.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Since it is your 16th birthday, this shall be a very special present. Look inside the box, it belonged to your father. What lies within is your gift.  
  
A very happy birthday to you,  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Harry unlocked the box, wondering what was enclosed inside. A very battered and worn piece of parchment met his gaze, and he unfolded it. What was written upon it went like this :  
  
Gryffindor Mansion, belonging to the Gryffindor line, now belongs to Harry James Potter. This estate was given unto him by his father, James Potter, stated in his final will and testament. It was decreed that upon Harry James Potter's sixteenth birthday, he will recieve the papers and rights pertaining to this estate. This deed has been acted and witnessed.  
  
Judith Marsont,  
Lawyer of the Branch of Magical and Historical Estates  
The Ministry of Magic  
  
"An estate?" thought Harry incredously. "I own an estate?" he cried out, shocked, his voice echoing in the empty room. All these years of wanting to live away from the Dursleys, and here was a opportunity to do so. Incredible.   
  
Just then, Dumbledore walked in, and upon seeing his package opened, smiled happily. "So I see you now know about Gryffindor Mansion?" he inquired, taking seat on a chair next to the wardrobe.   
  
"Yes, I do know," Harry replied, his voice a bit wavery from excitement. "I - I can live there?"  
  
"Of course you can," replied Dumbledore in an happy tone, "You own the estate. It is your choice what you decide to do with the lands and the rights that come with them."  
  
Now that Harry knew this wasn't a dream, he beamed happily, grinning from ear to ear. (Not exactly, but let's just say he was really, really, really happy.)  
  
~*~  
  
Gryffindor Mansion. What to say about it? Abadoned ever since James and Lily Potter died, it had fallen into a state of disrepair. Brightly lit windows and long since gave way to darkness, and tall towers cast long shadows upon the untended lawn. Light no longer dwelled in these halls. Only darkness. Only shadows. Only. . . despair. Pain. Shock. Horror. Sorrow. Regret. All these emotions, and others that cannot be described with words. For this was where James and Lily Potter died, killed on that fateful night. Can such shadows be chased away from these halls? Perhaps. . . It all depends on the residents of the house, or should I say, the future /resident/.  
  
To be continued . . . (added the last paragraph to hopefully clear up some things. Hope it helps.) 


	7. Interlude One: Pain

Harry Potter and the City of Dreams  
By Magma  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter One  
  
/he/ is not the person talking. It's a different person that the person in the interlude is talking about.  
  
Interlude One: Pain  
  
His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, threatening to overflow into a flood of crystalline water. Blood dripped from his fingers, falling. . . and the grass below him was stained red, almost as red as  
/he/ had been when he had killed him.  
  
It was so beautiful, he thought absentmindedly, blood staining his white trenchcoat. He felt. . . detached, somewhat, from his body. The kills always affected him like this. His eyes followed the track of blood from bloody hands to the blades of grass below. He felt the sudden urge to tear of the fingerless black gloves he wore, but couldn't bear doing it. Too many memories prevented him to actually /doing/ the action. He had worn gloves over his hands for the past 10 years, ever since that fateful day. . .  
  
He smiled a wistful, bitter smile, transforming his look of murderer to sudden tragedy. And then he wept, shoulders. Tears of blood fell, falling. . . Falling to the earth, where they were never meant to be at all.  
  
But when the first crimson tear was to hit the earth, a slender hand shot out to catch it.   
  
He raised his crying eyes to face the owner of the hand. . . and nearly fell back from shock.  
  
"Y-you!" he stuttered, his voice steadily climbing higher in volume. "I killed you!"  
  
The unknown man brushed back strands of hair out of his face, smiling bitterly.  
  
"What a wonderful job you did too," the man replied. "Problem is, I'm not dead. Want to try again?"  
  
------------------------------------  
To Be Continued? Don't really know. . .  
  
A/N: Felt the need to write something. Can you guess who they are? It was sort of written as a response to a review. The theme for today was - Ayumi Hamasaki Cyber TRANCE Presents Ayu Trance - Track 11 - Appears (Armin van Buuren Remix). Fits the mood of the interlude /very/ well. 


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